[Salon] Bahrain unreformed

[Chas Freeman <cwfresidence@gmail.com>]

https://mondediplo.com/2021/12/05bahrain

Bahrain unreformed

Bahrainis were promised democracy in 2001. But the authoritarian rule of the Al-Khalifas continued, and got even harsher after the 2011 protests. With the economy in deep trouble, the legitimacy of the monarchy is now in question.

Mustafa Yalcin · Anadolu · Getty

Fans of pro cycling have in recent years eagerly followed Bahrain Victorious (formerly Bahrain-Merida, then Bahrain McLaren), who won the best team award in this year’s Tour de France. Mostly of European origin, they fit the modern image Bahrainwants to project.

But behind this sporting success it’s a different story. The ruling Al-Khalifa family, who are Sunni Muslims, have crushed all attempts by the mainly Shia population to take part in political life, much like their neighbours Saudi Arabia and the UAE (United Arab Emirates), both (in different ways)unwaveringly absolute monarchies.

The judicial system is tightly controlled; free speech and political activity, once tolerated, are now criminalised, political opponents are stripped of their citizenship and civil rights, dissident voices on social media hunted down, and human rights activists systematically targeted. The state hacks citizens’ devices, intrudes into their lives, and invites international tenders for huge quantities of tear gas rounds and stun grenades. It has even deliberately exposed thousands of prison inmates to Covid-19, widely used torture (with blanket immunity for perpetrators), and handed down death sentences based on forced confessions. The West is well aware of this record, and the European Parliament has even, unusually and almost unanimously, condemned the regime’s behaviour by 633 votes to 11, with 45 abstentions (1).

Yet, a century ago, it was in Bahrain that the British colonial authorities planted the first seeds of democracy in the Arab Gulf. In 1926 Manama was allowed to choose half the members of its city council through elections open to property-owning citizens in ethno-religious electoral colleges. Bahrain was also the first Gulf state to have a workers’ strike — at Bahrain Petroleum Company (Bapco) in 1939. This began a tradition of social, trade union and political struggle that continued after Bahrain gained independence in 1971.

The promise of liberalisation

Three decades of popular dissatisfaction with the state’s increasing authoritarianism followed. Then, on 14 February 2001, a new emir, Hamad bin Isa al-Khalifa, promised to liberalise political life. An overwhelming majority of Bahrainis (98.4% of 198,000 voters) approved a hard-won national charter that covered political participation, respect for human rights and the separation of powers.

But exactly one year later, the emir proclaimed himself king and imposed a new constitution that confirmed the regime’s absolutism. This was never put to a popular vote, and the opposition declared it in breach of the 1973 constitution (2).

A lucky few are secretly given state-owned land, which they sell piecemeal to the working middle class. The lucky few become rentiers, but with soaring land prices, the middle class have to take on debt to buy land and build on it, if they want to raise a family — all due to the absence of rule of law Ibrahim Sharif

Over the next eight years, political and human rights continued to be eroded. But in the November 2010 general election, the main opposition party, Al-Wefaq National Islamic Society (Shia), surprised the country by winning 64% of the vote. However, this gave them only 18 out of 40 seats in the lower chamber of the majlis, as electoral boundaries had been redrawn to disadvantage Shia-majority constituencies, which ended up with six times as many voters as pro-government ones. And to make it clear that the royal will took precedence over the majlis, the 2002 constitution had created a new, 40-member upper chamber. Its members are all appointed by the king, who can amend the constitution at will and pass laws by decree (3).

The ruling powers also managed to prevent the secular Waad (National Democratic Action Society) from winning any seats at all. This party, whose leadership included both Sunni and Shia Muslims, appealed to young voters with its leftwing agenda and defence of human, political and social rights without regard to religious denomination. The Al-Khalifas, while regularly condemning sectarianism, also foster it as a way of cultivating fear among the Sunnis and as an excuse for repressing the Shia, thus creating general discord.

Arab Spring protests

The popular dissatisfaction expressed in the 2010 election became even clearer during the Arab Spring of February and March 2011, when pro-democracy protests in Manama attracted ‘100,000 people ... staggering numbers for a [city with a] population of just 500,000’ (New York Times, 26 February 2011). The repression that followed was exceptionally violent, with live rounds fired at unarmed demonstrators, and thousands arrested and tortured; Saudi and UAE troops crossed the causeway from the Saudi mainland and are still in Bahrain today. The Bahraini authorities demolished the monument on Pearl Square roundabout, which had been a rallying point for the demonstrators, on the pretext of improving traffic flow.

The opposition would work with the government to bring Bahrain out of its crisis, but the regime is ignoring the appeals of the people and the international community Ali al-Aswad

On 17 March 2011 Ibrahim Sharif, secretary-general of Waad, was arrested; he was tortured, released for three weeks, then imprisoned again until July 2016. Also imprisoned were the leaders of two unauthorised Shia movements, Abdulwahab Hussain of Al-Wafa, and Hassan Mushaima of Al-Haq (the Haq Movement for Liberty and Democracy), who is still in prison despite being critically ill, and human rights activists Abdulhadi al-Khawaja and Abduljalil al-Singace. Khawaja has dual Danish and Bahraini citizenship, and international NGOs regularly condemn his torture and persecution over the last 20 years. As of late October, Singace was still in prison, being fed through a tube after more than 100 days on hunger strike over his treatment, and the confiscation of the manuscript of a book he has written.

All are accused of financing and participating in acts of terrorism aimed at overthrowing the government and ‘spying for a foreign state’ — meaning Iran, though even the Bahrain International Commission of Inquiry, appointed by the king, found no evidence of direct Iranian interference as early as December 2011.

Nabil Rajab, the indefatigable deputy secretary-general of the International Federation of Human Rights (FIDH), has also been persecuted. The pro-regime media started accusing him of supporting terrorism in September 2010, and in 2018 he was sentenced to five years in prison for criticising the Saudi-led intervention in Yemen (of which Bahrain is part) and for condemning the use of torture. His imprisonment provoked international protests (Paris city council made him an honorary citizen in June 2019). He was freed in June 2020 on condition that he ceased all human rights activities.

The repression has continued to spread, with hundreds of students expelled from university, and thousands of teachers, doctors, civil servants and even private-sector employees removed from their jobs for criticising the regime, expressing disloyalty on social media or demonstrating. Those in prison (numbers have varied between 2,000 and 4,000 during successive crackdowns) are often denied healthcare, and 985 have been stripped of their citizenship since 2011 (4) — including Sheikh Isa Qassim, spiritual leader of Bahrain’s Shia Muslims, once praised by the authorities for his moderate stance.

To counteract widespread Shia opposition, the ruling powers have been trying for decades to change the country’s sectarian balance by giving citizenship to foreign Sunnis, including Moroccans and Pakistanis. According to former Al-Wefaq MP Ali al-Aswad, up to 100,000 have been naturalised since 2001, in what the opposition calls a ‘demographic coup’, increasingthe tension between the Shia on one hand and the police and low-paid foreign Sunni workers (loyal to the Al-Khalifas) on the other (5).

When talks after the November 2014 election (boycotted by the opposition and marked by a low turnout) failed to produce an outcome that would allow them to retain absolute power, the Al-Khalifas set out to crush the legal opposition — though it had agreed to a constitutional monarchy if there was some ‘democratic progress’.

Sheikh Ali Salman, secretary-general of Al-Wefaq, was arrested in December. In June 2015, after a period in solitary confinement followed by torture, he was sentenced to four years in prison for his political stance. This was extended to nine years after his conviction on further charges; and in November 2018, after Bahrain joined the boycott of Qatar led by Saudi Arabia, the UAE and Egypt, it became a life sentence for espionage and plotting with Qatar to overthrow the government. The courts have rejected all Salman’s calls for an inquiry into his torture. Bahrain has not changed its stance on Qatar, though Saudi Arabia and the UAE have been making conciliatory gestures.

Many political parties, including Al-Wefaq and Waad, have been disbanded, and their members banned from public life: they cannot stand for election to public office, and in some cases are banned or dissuaded from registering to vote; media campaigns denounce them as ‘traitors’.

The media are censored

Sheikh Salman’s advisor Ali al-Aswad believes ‘the government’s rejection of any kind of political détente complicates the situation at every level. The opposition is ready to work with the government to bring Bahrain out of its ten-year crisis, but the regime is ignoring appeals from the people and the international community.’

The media are censored, partly in line with a vaguely worded law from 2002, but mainly under the penal code, which has turned free _expression_ into a minefield as it allows the authorities to rule that any news story (let alone analysis or criticism) is an incitement to hatred or an attack on Bahrain’s institutions, reputation, unity or security if it concerns politics, social issues, lifestyles, the economy, the currency, human rights, morals, health or international relations.

Mansoor al-Jamri, editor of Bahrain’s only independent newspaper Al-Wasat,received an email in June 2017 ordering him to cease publication immediately on the grounds that the paper had carried an article criticising Morocco, an ally of Bahrain. Jamri, who had worked as a mechanical engineer in the UK, had returned to Bahrain hoping to contribute to its political opening by publishing an independent daily.

Religious discrimination, structural for many decades, has intensified. Until 2011 a small number of Shia found employment in government ministries and agencies, though this meant keeping a low profile: trying to avoid using their name as far as possible, changing their accent, not dressing or having their hair cut in Shia style, never discussing social issues, giving way to Sunnis when passing them in a corridor, and always being humble, never assertive. Since then, they have been replaced (suddenly or gradually, depending on the organisation) by (Bahraini or foreign) Sunnis. The opposition points out that Bahrain’s two largest state-owned companies, Bapco and Aluminium Bahrain (Alba), are contributing to the exclusion of Shia by recruiting foreigners whenever possible, at every level.

‘Royal radicals’ network

One of the architects of this repression was Khalifa bin Salman al-Khalifa, the present king’s uncle and Bahrain’s prime minister from 1971 until his death in November 2020. Khalifa’s name was feared partly because of his powerful connections in Bahrain itself, but also because he was leader of the ‘royal radicals’ — an unofficial network that for the last 30 years has coordinated the thoughts and actions of Sunni supremacists across the Arabian Peninsula. These radicals, raised in the principles of an austere Salafism, believe that in matters of politics, society and the economy, ‘nothing must be won through collective action or demands, for everything is granted by the monarch.’

Crown Prince Salman bin Hamad al-Khalifa, Khalifa’s great-nephew, became prime minister last November, having been in charge of Bahrain’s struggling economy since 2013, as deputy prime minister. The country’s financial position is as bad as its record on human and political rights: it gets 85% of its income from the Abu Safah oilfield, which it shares equally with Saudi Arabia.

Saudi Arabia operates the oilfield and, assuming a price of $73 a barrel, pays Bahrain around $4bn a year in respect ofthe oil it extracts — except in 2004, when it decided to punish Bahrain for signing a free trade agreement directly with the US, circumventing the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC), which is supposed to negotiate such treaties on behalf of the Arab Gulf’s six monarchies. Saudi Arabia stopped paying for several months, jeopardising Bahrain’s finances, and only started again when Bahrain expressed its gratitude, describing the payments as donations rather than money owed.

Extra-budgetary funds

Bahrain’s national accounts don’t reflect the true level of its debt, partly because they omit extra-budgetary funds channelled directly into extravagant purchases such as the Hôtel de Bourbon-Condé in Paris, which the Bahraini royal couple bought from the Daughters of the Heart of Mary in 2008 for €66m, a record price for a Parisian private residence. These hidden flows also breed corruption. Former Spanish king Juan Carlos’s fund manager recently told a Swiss court that in 2010 Juan Carlos, who now lives in a sumptuous villa in Abu Dhabi, handed him a suitcase containing $1.9m, to be deposited in the Swiss bank account of an offshore foundation in his name, saying that it was ‘a gift from the king of Bahrain’ (6).

But the main reason for Bahrain’s growing debt is military and security spending. The air force is spending $3.8bn on modernisation, and on doubling the number of its F-16 fighters (to 39 aircraft), the Trump administration having removed human rights conditions on such sales. At an average of $1.3bn a year for five years, extra-budgetary borrowing from the central bank has increased Bahrain’s debt by 12% from $39.8bn in 2016 to $44.5bn in 2020, or 130% of GDP ($33.9bn).

To avoid financial collapse, the government has since October 2018 relied on a debt deferral mechanism supported by Saudi Arabia and the UAE. Under Bahrain’s Vision 2030 plan, the debt becomes ‘future structural investment’ through a ‘future loan’ of $10bn from Saudi Arabia and the UAE. This spring, the International Monetary Fund warned, however, that despite the 2018 refinancing, Bahrain’s real debt could reach 155% of GDP by the end of 2026 (7) — a level considered a risk to national sovereignty in view of Bahrain’s growing deficit and dependence on oil and Saudi goodwill. Though the recent rise in the prices of oil and aluminium give Bahrain a little more room for manoeuvre, they are not enough to correct its financial imbalance.

Land ownership is another issue: ‘A lucky few are secretly given vast tracts of state-owned land, which they sell off piecemeal to the working middle class,’ said former Waad secretary-general Ibrahim Sharif. ‘The lucky few become rentiers, but with land prices soaring, the middle class have to take on considerable debt to buy a piece of land and build on it, if they want to raise a family. This is all due to the absence of rule of law and democratic oversight, and to general economic recklessness.’

Rights that don’t exist

Sharif also told me that the rights to some of the land concerned ‘don’t actually exist’ and that ‘fishermen in Shia villages are gradually being deprived of their ancestral right of access to the seashore. ’Those in the higher circles of power have taken financial and administrative control of the rapid polderisation of Bahrain’s coastline (around two square kilometres a year in a country of only 780 sq km), and through real estate speculation have created steady growth in the number of rentiers.

The crushing of independent media and opposition parties, and the persecution of human rights activists and lawyers have driven most political and social newsand debate onto social media. This has naturally attracted the attention of the regime, which has acquired two pieces of telephone spyware: Remote Control System (RCS, also known as DaVinci or Galileo), developed by the Italian firm Hacking Team, and the infamous Pegasus, developed by Israeli firm NSO Group Technologies. In July this year, Amnesty International and its cyber investigations partner Citizen Lab, together with a consortium of 17 media including Le Monde, revealed that Bahrain, Saudi Arabia and the UAE are among 11 countries (mostly with dictatorships or authoritarian regimes) that Israel’s defence ministry has approved to buy Pegasus, whose effectiveness in hacking the phones of politicians, human rights defenders and journalists is well known.

But the protection of Saudi Arabia, the UAE and Israel is not the only thing keeping the Al-Khalifas in power. The UK has a naval base in Bahrain and has for decades given the regime diplomatic support, praising its ‘progress’ on human rights and seating King Hamad on the Queen’s right at her 90th birthday party.

Last October, 42 Middle East experts from 22 universities around the world wrote to the vice-chancellor of the University of Huddersfield (UK), calling for the university to end its cooperation with Bahrain’s police academy. Huddersfield runs an MSc in security science at the academy, in Bahrain; the course was inaugurated in 2018 by the university’s then chancellor Prince Andrew, who has since retired from all public duties (8).

French welcome for King Hamad

In February this year, 40 British MPs and peers signed a letter criticising the university for welcoming members of the Bahraini police to Huddersfield and for running the course. Witness accounts collected by NGOs claim the academy is being used as a ‘torture hub’ for the repression of dissidents, political activists and human rights activists (9). The university would not reveal how much it was being paid, but said that providing the course was in line with UK government policy and that there was no reason to consider abandoning it, since it strengthened relations with Bahrain’s interior ministry.

France has instructed officials not to question Bahrain’s human rights record any more than they do that of Saudi Arabia, and for 20 years has given a warm (though discreet) welcome to King Hamad, who is almost a Parisian, every time he wants to visit the country.

In this way, France has turned a blind eye to the fact that the brutal repression of all opposition and large-scale naturalisation of foreign Sunnis are widening the divide between the monarchy and most Bahrainis, and undermining any argument that seeks to legitimise a dictatorship (however long-established) that has voluntarily and violently severed its connection with the people.

Is Bahrain heading for disaster? Having realised that cutting all links with the population has brought about a general crisis, the monarchy is attempting a timid readjustment. Crown Prince Salman is in charge: his remit now goes beyond the economy, and he no longer has his late great-uncle Khalifa looking over his shoulder. (Khalifa’s heirs have been sidelined politically and stripped of most of their assets.) In his new capacity as prime minister, Salman told the media this February that it was time to address religious discrimination and that appointments to public office should reflect Bahrain’s ‘social make-up and diversity [which] are a source of strength, not weakness’. But he also said appointments should be based not only on competence but also on ‘loyalty to the nation’ (10).

Salman promised Bahrain’s thousands of political prisoners that he would establish an ‘open’ prison system, though it now seems this applies to only a few dozen people. He also said it was important ‘to move beyond reliance on confessions before the court and shift towards requiring the use of conclusive forensic evidence’. If that happens, Bahrain may cease to be one of those dictatorships that justify the imprisonment and death in custody of political opponents by the publication — in court, on television or in print — of ‘confessions’, which they consider to be ‘the ultimate proof’.

But though Salman, by broaching these issues, has been able to go beyond his usual championing of economic ultra-liberalism, he does not yet seem to have his father’s permission to venture into crucial areas that are a state prerogative: politics, the judicial system, policing, human rights, and even budgets. It’s hard to see how the regime can find a way out of the present impasse solely through a limited economic opening and through reducing, though not eliminating, repression and religious discrimination, if it continues to curb basic freedoms. How much longer can Bahrain flip between violent repression and the quest for a historic compromise?